


but they know i'm king

by Suicix



Category: GOT7
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Homecoming, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10981473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: If Jackson can't fall asleep on the plane home, then all he wants to think of is Mark and Bambam and when he'll arrive and get to be between them (whatever shape or form that may take).





	but they know i'm king

**Author's Note:**

> set literally any time recently after jackson's returned from china to korea, whenever exactly that may have been.

Jackson can’t seem to sleep on the plane. The flight’s short, only a couple of hours, so there’s no need to, really, but a nap’s still what he wants after a long day (and, of course, it wouldn’t be any good if he just passed out immediately after he gets back to the dorm – he at least wants to say goodnight).

It’s an evening flight, so the sky was bathed in hazy peach and blue as the plane took off. Beautiful, but Jackson shut the window up as soon as he could take off his seatbelt, so now he’s in the dark, wanting so badly to sleep but unable to reach it. He pulls his cap down lower and tries to clear his mind: if he can’t sleep, then all he wants to think of is Mark and Bambam and crawling into bed between them. Nothing else, just them and being surrounded by their warmth and the satisfaction that comes with being in the middle. His seat on the plane is admittedly comfortable, but nothing can compare to Bambam and Mark, not even the biggest bed and a mattress personalised just for his needs (though right now, he definitely wouldn’t say no to that if it meant he’d get a few minutes of sleep).

Seatbelts go back on. The plane lands. It’s so dark outside – there’s the extra hour to take into account because of the time zone change – and all the signs are in a different language, a different alphabet. Jackson collects his baggage and finds the car that was sent to pick him up, and the second part of the journey back to the dorm begins.

He watches the water pass by in a blur as the car travels over the expressway from the airport to the mainland, and then as the buildings get taller and the lights get brighter as he gets closer and closer to Seoul – to home. The dorm itself might be new, but with the rest of the group, it’s already home here in Korea.

Jackson thanks the driver once they’ve arrived and makes his way into the building, upstairs, inside the dorm itself. He leaves his shoes at the door (because he can do that now that Coco isn’t around to chew at his shoes and eat his plants, as much as he misses her and misses having Youngjae around all the time even more) and hangs up his jacket before heading into the lounge, dragging his bags with him.

Almost everyone else is in there: Jinyoung and Yugyeom are bickering over whatever snack food they’re eating – Jackson can’t tell what it is from where he’s standing – and Bambam’s curled up on the couch with his head in Mark’s lap and one of Mark’s hands in his hair. They all look up when the door opens, though, and Jackson finds a smile on every face.

“Hey,” he says, and he gets a chorus of _hi_ and _welcome back_ and _how are you?_ in response. Jaebum even manages to tear himself away from his cats for a moment to come out of his room and say hello. Youngjae is at his brother’s, of course, though within minutes Jackson’s phone is buzzing with an excited message welcoming him back to the country, as if someone’s told Youngjae he’s just arrived. (Judging from the phone in Mark’s hands, Jackson guesses it was him. It would make sense, anyway: it’s a simple, quiet gesture, but one that really does mean something even if it only seems small. Mark’s shown him too many of those to count over the years.)

Somehow, it feels like as if from just merely being in their presence, at least some of his desperation to sleep has gone. As draining as work and travel can be, he still soaks up energy from being around people, making them laugh, making them _happy_. Especially when he’s with people he loves as much as the rest of the group, as much as Mark and Bambam. He moves over to them now, letting one of his hands join Mark’s in Bambam’s hair to ruffle it and squeezing Mark’s shoulder.

“Your room?” Mark asks, low enough that Jackson and Bambam are the only ones who can hear, and Jackson nods.

“I’ll be there,” he says. “Give me a few minutes to get settled, yeah?”

He heads off. Mark and Bambam don’t follow, not yet. They’ll be here soon enough, whatever ends up happening, and sure, maybe Jackson’s hoping for sex. Maybe. He won’t push it, because he can’t if they don’t all want it, but it’s there in his mind for sure.

The group’s schedule means the room’s pretty unlived in: they’ve been so busy with preparing for the comeback since moving in, spending most of their time at the company or the studio or out filming stuff for it. Even if Jackson was here when he was sick during the first week of promotions, he just slept most of the time, and after that it was music show after music show and variety show after variety show, and then he’s had time in China, too. Still, it’s _his_ room, and it’s one of the best things about the new dorm, aside from how much of a blessing the air conditioning’s going to be in the summer. It’s not even just because it’s his own space (though of course that’s a part of it), but because it makes it so much easier to spend time alone with Bambam and Mark. In the very beginning, when it was Mark and Jackson in a room at the old dorm and just the two of them who were together, it was fine, but then came the roommate switch and then later on it became them _and_ Bambam, and all three of them sharing rooms with one of the others made getting even just a little bit of time alone difficult.

That’s not a problem now, of course. Now, what’s stopping them from having as much time together like this as they’d like is their busy schedule, but that’s just work and Jackson accepts it. They have tonight to do whatever the three of them want, and it’s a luxury that Jackson will take.

He just sets his bags aside once he’s in the room – there’s no point in unpacking much just yet – and settles down in the middle of the bed and waits. He knows he won’t have to for long.

There’s no knock, because of course there isn’t, and barely a second after stepping into the room and the door’s been closed again, Bambam’s launching himself at Jackson and straddling Jackson’s lap, like this touch is what he needs more than anything else.

“Shit,” Jackson says, because honestly, he’s a little taken aback. “I was only gone a couple of days.”

“And we missed you,” Bambam says simply, like that’s all there is to it. “Right?”

“Right.” Mark’s behind Jackson on the bed now, the word low and warm in Jackson’s ear and his smile audible from it. He presses a kiss to the side of Jackson’s neck and Jackson sighs, his eyes fluttering shut when Mark lets it linger.

Bambam chooses that moment to duck forward and kiss Jackson’s mouth. Jackson can’t help but give a little hum in surprise because, hey, he didn’t see that coming, but he’s not complaining, is never complaining. Bambam’s lips are soft against his, so much so that it’s really kind of dizzying, and Jackson moans when the kiss deepens, their tongues sliding together, hot and wet.

“We missed you,” Mark murmurs, repeating Bambam’s words. His breath tickles Jackson’s skin, and this time, the noise Jackson makes is one of total agreement. He missed them, too.

Mark’s hands are on his hips, and Bambam’s grinding down against him, and now all thoughts of sleep are _definitely_ gone. Jackson still wants to be between them, and he still wants that to be in bed, but he wants something else before what he was thinking about on the plane – just being able to lie between them and rest – happens.

Still, what happens now isn’t totally his call. It depends on what the other two want, too, and there’s no other way to find out but to ask. He pulls back from the kiss, as much as he’d like it to last forever.

“What do you want?” he asks Bambam. _God_ , his voice is a little rough from even just kissing. Bambam looks just as affected by it: his lips are swollen and his eyes are bright, and there’s something there in his expression that’s so mischievous it’s almost unbearable. It’s definitely playing a part in why Jackson’s dick is stiffening up where the two of them are touching. That and the fact that he can feel that Bambam’s getting hard too, of course.

“I want you to fuck me,” Bambam says, easy and confident, “and…” He glances over Jackson’s shoulder, a knowing look in his eyes. “I want Mark to fuck you.”

“If you want,” Mark says, more words almost whispered into Jackson’s ear, but – _yeah_. Of _course_ Jackson wants that. Besides, it’s difficult to say no to Bambam at the best of times, so when he’s offering something that Jackson wants? Impossible. Beyond impossible.

“I want it.” Jackson nods emphatically. Bambam’s fingers curl around the hem of Jackson’s t-shirt; Mark’s hands squeeze tighter at Jackson’s waist. “Fuck, come on.”

There’s no teasing from there. Jackson’s shirt is quick to come off, and so are the rest of the clothes. Soon enough there’s a messy pile on the floor, and _no_ , Jackson does not fucking _care_ if nothing’s folded. If Mark wants things to be neat, he can do it later. It’s Jackson’s room, after all, and there are more important things at hand.

Important things like the way Bambam looks leaning back against the pillows, his skin flushed and his cock hard. Important things like telling Mark he can find the lube and condoms in the bedside table drawer. (Except really, Jackson doesn’t even have to tell Mark where to find them: Mark already knows.)

“Please.” Bambam spreads his legs wider once Mark’s handed the bottle of lube over to Jackson. “Hyung, please.”

Jackson quickly slicks up his fingers and then gets in close so he can press one inside Bambam. Mark’s beside him, stroking a hand up and down the inside of Bambam’s thigh, soothing. It’s not really because of the pain, because Bambam’s all too used to the feeling at this point, but more a reminder that Mark’s there, too.

Watching Bambam like this is always so – _fuck_. Jackson doesn’t think he’d ever be able to describe it, not in any of the languages he speaks. He doesn’t think he’d be able to do it justice, is the thing. Bambam’s just beautiful like this, and it’s something that only Mark and Jackson get to see. There are no expensive clothes or fancy sunglasses to cover up how much he wants them; the way his body reacts to their touch and the look in his eyes are both there plain for them to see. Jackson works in another finger, pushing deeper, and _god_. If anything’s an indication that he’s doing something right, it’s the way Bambam just groaned, the way his cock twitched and leaked out a little extra precome. Just hearing and seeing that has Jackson even harder, has him wanting even more. He casts his mind back to the very first time he and Mark did this for Bambam, when it first became him _and_ them, a very welcome addition to Mark-and-Jackson that’s only served to make things even better.

That first time, it had been Mark carefully pushing his fingers inside to get Bambam ready for his cock as Jackson talked Bambam through it, telling him how good it was going to be, how good Mark was going to make it for him, how good Mark _always_ makes it. Thinking about _that_ has Jackson all the more eager to work a little faster, to actually finish getting Bambam ready for him. Jackson inserts a third finger, and he can’t help but grin at the way Bambam’s eyes widen, at his helpless moan.

“Yeah?” he asks after a while longer.

“Yeah,” Bambam repeats. His voice is shaky and his thighs are trembling too and the look in his eyes is bordering on desperate, like he needs something more, needs Jackson’s cock. Jackson pulls his fingers back.

“Here.” Mark’s arm winds around Jackson’s waist, holding out a condom for him. Jackson takes it and gets it on, and once he has, Mark’s hand is back again, spreading some more lube over Jackson’s dick. It’s impossible for Jackson not to notice the way Bambam’s watching Mark’s hand slick him up, the way he’s hungrily eyeing how Mark’s hand jerks Jackson’s cock like there’s nothing he wants more.

And – well. Right now, there’s nothing Jackson wants more than to push inside of him, to feel that perfect tight heat around his cock, to make Bambam feel good.

Bambam leans back some more, getting his legs into position, and Jackson takes hold of his thighs and lines himself up. He takes a fraction of a moment more just to look – Bambam’s messed up hair and his dark, lidded eyes and his leaking cock – and then thrusts inside. He moves in even closer, so he can fist one hand in the sheets beside Bambam’s shoulder, and _fuck_ , that’s–

“That’s – that’s so good.” It’s as if Bambam’s reading his mind. He bucks his hips up a little from underneath Jackson, tangling his fingers in Jackson’s hair and pulling him in closer, not so near that they’re kissing but enough that they’re panting against each other’s open mouths, too overcome by the sudden pleasure of it all to say anything else.

“Yeah.” Jackson manages to find a word after a moment. “Bam, _fuck_.” It’s been too long since he got to have this, since there’s been time for anything more than just easy hand jobs or blow jobs, since he got to fuck or be fucked. There’s something about this that’s so incomparably intimate, something that nothing else can ever come close to – especially when Jackson’s going to get both of those things. He finds a rhythm, steady and simple, and it’s all they need for now.

“You want me to get started on you?” Mark asks soon enough. One of his hands is on Jackson’s ass, solid and steady, and _oh god yes_ , Jackson wants him inside.

“Yeah,” he pants out again, driving his hips forward a little, trying to show his ass off to Mark, and Bambam whines beneath him.

“Do it, hyung,” Bambam tells Mark. He moves a hand to Jackson’s face, his thumb brushing against Jackson’s cheek. “I wanna watch his face as you fuck him.”

Jackson can’t even try to hold back the moan at that. Sure, part of it’s the fact that he’s inside Bambam right now, but it’s the words, too, the idea that someone wants to see him, that someone wants _him_. Two someones.

There’s the sound of the cap of the lube being snapped open again, and so Jackson waits. He relaxes his body a little, and – _there_. One of Mark’s fingers is there, inside, stretching him open, and it’s swiftly joined by another.

“Fuck,” Jackson hisses. He’s done this enough times before, but there’s always something kind of unpredictable about it, and as much as he likes that, there’s an edge of pain, too. (Which – well. He’ll admit it: which he also likes.)

Bambam tilts his head up to kiss the corner of Jackson’s mouth, and Jackson whimpers against his lips when Mark presses harder, deeper. Mark’s other hand closes over Jackson’s hip to keep him still.

“Be patient,” he says, amused and infuriatingly calm, and Jackson’s _trying_ , OK? Out of everyone, Mark should know that patience isn’t exactly something that comes easily to him, much less when what he’s waiting for is to be fucked, when he’s already balls deep inside of someone and the pleasure is just – _everywhere_. Fuck. He really fucking needs this.

Luckily, though, he doesn’t have to be patient for long. After Mark’s fingers are gone, the next thing Jackson hears from behind him is a condom wrapper being torn open. It’s another moment before he’s pressing inside Jackson, the weight of his cock stretching Jackson out even more, and _yes_. When Mark holds himself still, the entire length of his dick inside, it’s exactly what Jackson wants. To be caught between them like this, inside Bambam while Mark’s inside him.

There’s stillness for a moment, no movement but the ever so gentle shudder of Bambam’s body as he clenches around Jackson. It’s broken when Mark grips hard at Jackson’s hips and pushes him forward, deeper into Bambam. Bambam cries out, and Jackson has to tighten his hold on the bedsheets, his eyes squeezing shut. He opens them up again – he wants to watch Bambam as much as Bambam wants to watch him – and just lets Mark do as he wills, lets Mark fuck them how he wants.

Jackson catches Bambam’s mouth with his own, making the kiss wet and loud and deep. They’re both whimpering into it, clutching at each other as Mark fucks them into the mattress, his hands firm on Jackson’s hips. Even here, Mark isn’t especially loud, but Jackson can hear the occasional moan and how his breathing has changed and the snap of his hips, and it’s more than enough to know how good he feels – how good _Jackson’s_ making him feel.

The kiss has to break so Jackson and Bambam can breathe, and Jackson grabs at Bambam’s shoulder when Mark gives a particularly hard thrust, his nails digging in.

“ _Oh_ ,” Bambam exclaims, his eyes going wide and then fluttering shut for a moment, “I’m–”

Mark seems to get the hint: his arm reaches around Jackson and his hand curls around Bambam’s dick, working him hard and fast. Bambam rocks his hips up, looking for more of the touch, and wraps his legs around Jackson, crossing his ankles to keep Jackson there, deep inside. Between Jackson inside him and Mark’s hand on his cock, it doesn’t take long from there for Bambam to come, and he pulls harder at Jackson’s hair as he does. He moans, head sinking back against the pillows, his mouth wet and open wide and even more swollen from kisses, both Jackson and Mark’s names spilling out among groans and curses.

Just looking at Bambam like this has Jackson sure that he’s going to fall apart as well, right here and right now. He isn’t moving inside Bambam, but Mark’s still fucking into him, hitting him just right with almost every thrust. The dual sensations push him to the edge, and he buries his face in Bambam’s neck to mask some of the noise. It’s a courtesy to everyone else in the dorm, really: Jackson knows he can get loud, and no-one else needs to hear it. Only Mark and Bambam.

Mark fucks Jackson through his orgasm, the rhythm getting slightly more unsteady and a whole lot more desperate as he chases his, too. Jackson lifts his head and kisses Bambam again, his body over-sensitised in the best way as Mark finally comes, uncharacteristically loud for him but just as typically hot as ever.

It’s a moment before Mark pulls out. Bambam unwraps his still-shaking legs from around Jackson’s body, and so Jackson pulls out of Bambam, too. Again, Mark’s hand is there, this time to remove Jackson’s condom. He leaves the bed to chuck them both away, and Jackson moves so he’s lying down next to Bambam.

“Move over,” Jackson says, poking at Bambam’s shoulder. “I’ve been away, and it’s my bed. I should get the middle, yeah?”

“You already _got_ the middle,” Bambam jokes, but he shuffles along all the same. He pretends to pout, keeping his shoulder covered with a hand until Jackson leans down and kisses the place he poked.

Mark rejoins them, using the wipe he’s returned with to clean away the come drying on Bambam’s stomach before settling on Jackson’s other side.

“We never asked,” Mark says, sounding apologetic. “How was your flight?”

“He’s here with us now, so it must have been OK,” Bambam cuts in, and Jackson smiles.

“It was fine,” he says. “I feel better being here, though.”

“Better after fucking,” Bambam mutters, smirking and then laughing when Jackson elbows him in the side. It’s true, though. Now, Jackson feels calmer, looser, less wound up, and really, it’s not even about the sex – he knows that just being with them in any capacity would have the same effect.

**Author's Note:**

> i! love!! atk!!! anyway, you can also find me on tumblr @ vibetechs!!


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